Title: Along Comes a Stranger (28/28)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: AU. Jim’s life in Riverside is uncomplicated until two men, both equally mysterious and compelling, arrive in town, bringing with them the promise of change.
Previous Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27

IMPORTANT: Part 27 went up yesterday. Please read that first if you have not!!

Part Twenty-Eight

It’s amazing that when Jim is unable to go to the gossip, so to speak, the gossip comes to him.

“He doesn’t need to hear that, Spock, not now.”

“I beg to differ, Leonard. Jim will be upset if he finds out later.”

“Goddamn it, he’s stressed! Can’t you see that?”

A short silence. “Yes, Dr. McCoy. Yet the fact remains that he must know.”

Jim sighs and sits up. “Spock?” he says, raising his voice.

Spock appears in the doorway, Bones silhouetted behind him. “Yes, Jim?”

“Just tell me.”

McCoy pushes into the room. “Go back to sleep, kid.”

“Bones,” he asks, and why does his voice sound so weary? “What’s going on?”

Spock answers before Leonard can deny anything. “The young man Pavel Chekov and his sister are in danger of deportation.”

Jim starts, then has to take a long minute to control his coughing fit. “What the fuck, Bones?” he demands. “You can’t not tell me this!”

“You’re sick, Jim, and there’s nothing you can do to help Pavel or Sasha!”

“Please,” interjects the lawyer, “do not argue. These are merely the facts, as Leonard states, Jim. A hired detective has recently begun investigating the whereabouts of the Chekovs at the behest of concerned family members in Russia.”

Jim recalls Pavel’s evident fear. He says, “Pavel’s grown but Sasha is too young to be without a guardian.”

Spock nods. “I inquired into the matter with Pavel, and he explained that Sasha was living with their childless aunt and uncle and she was… not treated well. When he turned eighteen, he offered to care for Sasha but the offer was refused. They ran.”

“Sulu’s keeping ’em out of sight,” Leonard adds.

“Fuck,” Jim says, forgetting that his lungs are on fire. “Can’t somebody tell the detective to take a hike? That they’re gone?”

McCoy has resigned himself to the conversation apparently. “Pavel’s family was tipped off they were here. They won’t leave well enough alone.”

“By Trelane,” Jim supplies with a burst of anger. “Always fuckin’ Trelane!”

“Jim, calm down. You’re wheezing.”

Jim fights to get himself under control. “What can I do to help?” he half-begs.

“Not a damn thing,” Leonard says, overriding Spock. “Spock’s already said that he’ll take care of it.”

Jim looks at Spock. “Tell me.”

“The case can be argued that Pavel is a citizen of the United States, given that he was born in this country and spent a number of years in the U.S. before returning to Russia. Russia allows for a dual citizenship so, fortunately, we will not be contested in that regard. Then Pavel must become a legal representative for Sasha, until the time that he is 21 and may apply for a Green Card on her behalf.”

Jim trusts that Spock knows what he is talking about. “How could it go wrong?”

“If the Chekovs in Russia claim that Sasha was kidnapped and press the Embassy for her return and Pavel’s extradition.”

Jim rubs a hand along his forehead. Bones asks, “Headache?” Jim nods.

When the doctor slips away to fetch some aspirin, Jim levels a stare at Spock. “Can you get a letter to Lady Q?”

Spock hesitates. “Jim, is that a wise course of action?”

“Probably not, but she owes me,” he remarks flatly. “And somebody has to protect Pavel and Sasha.”

A day and a half later Spock returns with the news that the detective has suddenly given up his pursuit of the missing Chekovs. Jim licks his lips and wants to know, “She agreed, then?”

Spock has that not-smile. “She reminded me that you vouched for Pavel Chekov and that his importance—and thereby his sister’s—to your person translated to an importance to her person. Lady Q also expressed a desire to ‘deprive ailing Russian monarchs of their offspring’ and was pleased to persuade Mr. and Mrs. Ivan Chekov to dismiss the existence of their niece and nephew… monetarily speaking.”

Jim sinks into his hospital bed and groans. “She owns my soul now, doesn’t she, Spock?”

“I suspect she will preserve it along with her other artifacts, Jim.”

Jim’s middle finger is succinct. Spock’s mouth twitches in amusement.

One less problem, Jim thinks. He shifts restlessly. Now if only he could get out of the hospital a day early. Spock, the cruel bastard, refuses to upset Leonard’s precarious mental state—meaning he doesn’t want to be pinned to a wall and threatened should Bones discover the man’s involvement. Well, he supposes, at least they both have a healthy respect for—and fear of—Dr. Leonard H. McCoy.

Bored to tears, Jim peeks open his eyes, sees the ramrod-straight back of a man facing the posted nursing chart on the wall opposite Kirk’s hospital bed, and begins to say, “Spock, can you—?”

The man who turns around is not Spock.

Jim flushes. “S-Sarek.”

Sarek walks over to a visitor’s chair and sits down, never taking his eyes off Jim. “Good evening, Mr. Kirk. I trust that your condition shows steady improvement.” The man’s tone implies that he already knows the answer to that question.

Nevertheless, Jim nods. “I’m good.” He isn’t as tired as he was a couple of days ago, but Jim finds that he has less patience for idle chat after being cramped in this room for four days. Kirk sighs. “Are you here with Spock?”

“I am not.” Pausing, Sarek turns his head to watch two nurses pass by the open door to Jim’s room. When they are gone, he continues. “I am completing a… necessary list of errands.”

And visiting Jim’s bedside is an errand? How pleasant. “Thanks,” he says sarcastically.

Sarek lifts an eyebrow. “You misconstrue my meaning, Mr. Kirk. While I admit to a dual purpose in seeking out your presence, a large portion of that purpose is to determine how you fare.”

“Why?” Jim asks bluntly.

Sarek remains utterly still in his chair. “Your well-being matters to my son; hence, your well-being matters to me.”

Well, Jim can’t blame the guy for his honesty. He says, “Spock knows I am okay.”

Again, that strange moment of silence drifts between them. Sarek is measuring something, perhaps how much information he wishes to share with Jim. Not that Jim cares, of course.

Abruptly Sarek speaks. “Spock rarely asks for my aid. He prides himself on his independence, on his ability to handle any particular challenge which should arise. Therefore, when my son does break this one rule of his, when he does seek my support or my expertise, I know that it is a matter of true urgency and concern which prompts such an action.” Jim swallows under Sarek’s steady stare. Sarek finishes gravely, “I cannot deny that it unsettles me.”

Now Jim is unsettled too and harboring more than a small amount of nervousness. “Why are you telling me this?” he questions.

If anything, Sarek is a straightforward man. “Spock explained the nature of your tete-a-tete with Trelane.”

Only an outsider would describe those brutal encounters as mildly as Sarek does. Jim feels cold, whispers, “Why would he do that?”

“Spock wishes to see justice served to a man that cannot be touched by any system of law. I have the capacity to see that it is so.”

For a full thirty seconds, Jim has no words for Sarek. Finally he manages, “Trelane?”

Sarek unfolds his hands from his lap and stands. The man approaches the bed and withdraws an object from his coat pocket. He holds it out to Kirk, saying nothing.

Jim stares at the lock of blond hair shimmering in the overhead light. Feeling a sense of surrealism, he tentatively takes the lock of hair between forefinger and thumb.

“I said I had a dual purpose in meeting with you, Mr. Kirk,” Sarek reminds him softly. “This was found in Trelane’s personal safe, along with other articles of interest. A man who wishes to retain keepsake of his victim undoubtedly has a troubled mind. Let me be the first to assure you, Mr. Kirk, that the individual known as Trelane is no longer of concern to any man.”

Jim drops his hand—and his lock of hair clenched in his fist—to his bedspread. “You killed him,” he says tonelessly, his emotions too mixed up to sort.

Sarek tilts his head, looking for a moment so much like Spock that Jim can easily picture Spock aging into a replica of his father. “I do not advocate the taking of life, Jim—” Jim is surprised to hear his first name. “—but I do know how to subdue it when necessary.”

And that, Jim realizes, is as close as a confession he will ever hear from Sarek. Trelane could be ‘detained’ or imprisoned or generally suffering for his crimes in Riverside; Jim has to trust that it is so.

Kirk relaxes back into his pillows. “Thank you,” he says with sincerity. If Kirk admits it, he may feel slightly dizzy with relief.

Sarek asks, voice gentle, “What request were you going to make of Spock when you first awoke?”

Jim gestures at the light switch. “Could you turn one of them off? It’s hard to sleep in a blinding white light.”

Sarek nods, moving toward the door, only to encounter his son entering the room. Spock stops at the sight of Sarek and queries, “Father?”

Sarek greets Spock.

Spock’s gaze skips over to Jim. “Are you well?”

Jim rubs his thumb against Sarek’s unexpected gift and smiles. “Better. It’s late, Spock. Why are you here?”

Spock lifts both of his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Did I not promise to return with a suitable substitute for cafeteria jello, Jim?”

Kirk sits up and looks eagerly at the plastic bag in Spock’s hand. Please, please, let there be a candy bar in that bag, he wishes. Jim glances around, trying to remember if Bones or his mother might be around. He catches Sarek’s eyes. “I thought you meant in the morning,” mumbles Jim, suddenly acutely aware that Sarek is listening to their conversation. Hopefully Sarek doesn’t read subtext.

Sarek clears his throat. “I must return to my wife. Spock, should I anticipate that you will remain in Derby?”

Spock nods. “Jim will be released in another twenty-four hours.”

“Ah,” murmurs Sarek. Then, almost too casually to his son, “I completed the task as requested.”

Spock stiffens and asks softly, “Did you?”

Jim looks from Spock’s sharp eyes to Sarek’s and is fervently glad he is not the recipient of their combined ire—well, not in the sense that Trelane now is.

Sarek replies in a deceptively mild voice, “Upon one of my errands—the return of a particular set of journals—”

Jim perks up at this. So Trelane did have Lord Q’s missing journals!

“—I was given a gift of gratitude.” Sarek pauses. “Specifically for my son, Mr. Spock.”

Spock unclasps his hands and drops them to his sides, the only indication of his bewilderment at this announcement. “I do not understand.”

Sarek turns away so that Jim only sees the line of those perfectly straight shoulders. Maybe Sarek doesn’t want anyone to see the mirth in his eyes? Because that mirth is a clear undertone in the man’s next statement: “Your mother is caring for your gift. Felines, I am told, require saucers of milk and ample objects to retain their attention when they are of a young age.”

Jim’s eyes widen and he wiggles in his bed, blurting out, “Bo Peep! Aw, Spock, Lady Q gave you Bo Peep!” He barely stops himself from making a ridiculous fake meow and effectively reducing Sarek’s opinion of him.

From Jim’s angle, Spock could be blushing. Whether or not the man is, Sarek must decide to allow his son a margin of dignity and says in parting, “Have a pleasant evening, gentlemen.” The man disappears around the corner of the door.

Jim waits an entire minute before teasing Spock, suddenly no longer tired at all. And Spock had, in fact, brought him a Hershey’s chocolate bar. They share it.

Jim finds out on the day he is released from the Derby hospital that Scotty has been staying with the Q—and apparently loving it.

“I think she’s a mite touched,” says Montgomery Scott about Lady Q, “but the campus has got three—three!—libraries and a man—I mean a Q—who used to work for NASA. He knows all sorts of interestin’ stuff, Jim!”

Jim sees the flushed pleasure in Scotty’s face and his spirits lift in response. “Are you living there now?”

Bones, Spock, Jim, and their escort Mr. Scott (courtesy of Lady Q) are comfortably situated in a wide limo and headed back to Riverside. Jim bets that he is the only patient to check-out of Derby Hospital in such fanfare. The security guards had boggled at an expressionless driver, an effervescent Scotty, and a sleek limousine loitering at the entrance to whisk Mr. Kirk and his family away. (Winona is already at Jim’s apartment ‘tidying up’ for his return. Jim is grateful, because she would have asked too many questions he couldn’t answer.)

Scotty shakes his head in the negative. “I promised to stay the summer ‘n do some assistant research with the, um, NASA Q. After, I’m startin’ upstate at Uni.” The man reaches forward and touches Jim’s hand. “Thank ye, Jim. Mr. Spock told me the scholarship board agreed to allot me the funding I was promised.”

“Hey,” Jim says, “it’s only fair. That money was always yours.” Then, more gently, “Your mom?”

“She’s all right,” he says. “She said I shouldna stayed in the first place on account o’ her but what’s done is done. Yer mother said that. I don’t… wanna leave her but I don’t wanna give up a second chance, either.”

Next to Jim, Bones says, “Good for you, Scotty.”

Bones’ arm is heavy across his shoulders, and Jim leans into the man’s side, continuing to listen to Scotty talk, letting the sound of someone’s happiness remind him of why he shouldn’t stay miserable.

The next day Kirk asks them to bring him here because Jim needs to see the extent of the damage. Spock offers to drive Jim’s truck. They are a mile away when Jim catches the lingering scent of smoke in the air. He does not break his silence, not when the truck passes familiar landmarks only to pull into a parking lot—and a gaping space where The Diner used to be.

Jim eases out of the cab of the truck, unsurprised that Bones seems to be joined at his hip. Jim keeps his silence, rooted to the spot; and he keeps his silence once finally moving again and as he trails along the yellow caution tape cordoning off the wreckage. Bones’s face is heavy with a grief Jim finds he can’t openly express. He nods absently at McCoy’s quiet “I’m sorry.”

Kirk vaguely registers the sound of car doors slamming and new voices until someone calls out, “Jim!” It’s Uhura, with Gaila behind her and Sulu still standing awkwardly by his car and a silent Pavel.

Nyota’s voice breaks as she says, “Oh, Jim.”

One second they are far apart; the next second, they are in each other’s arms, taking comfort in an old friendship and a complete understanding of what they’ve really lost. Jim brushes away Uhura’s tears with his thumbs and tells her, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s my fault. Oh God, Uhura, I am so sorry.”

It hits him hard that she’s lost her job because of him. So has Sulu and Pavel.

She stops sniffling into his shoulder and tries to punch his arm, which doesn’t have much force behind it since they are practically chest to chest. Nyota’s wet glare is pissed when she pulls back.

“You’d better shut up, Kirk,” she tells him harshly. “I don’t ever want to hear you say it’s your fault again. Ever.“

Easier said than done.

She sniffs one last time into a handkerchief Bones had produced out of thin air. “We’re all hurting,” says Uhura, “but I think any one of us would agree that if it came down to the diner or your life, we’d have set a match to the place ourselves.”

The look in her eyes dares him to say she is wrong. Kirk’s gaze moves past her to Gaila, who has her arms crossed over her chest and a hard expression, and then to Pavel and Sulu, who nods silently in support of Uhura’s statement.

Jim releases the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Okay,” he says, even though the word hurts. Jim scrubs a hand over his face. “I guess there’s no point in hangin’ out here. Food?” he asks plaintively, hoping to take his mind away from the nightmare of Trelane that keeps surfacing, especially now that he can match the sight of the damaged diner with the smell and sound of it burning in his mind.

But Uhura vetoes that idea. “Your mom’s on her way. We have to wait for her.”

“What? Why?” he asks sharply.

Nyota’s mouth pulls into a semblance of a smile. “To meet for dinner. I get the feeling she wants to talk to us about something.”

Jim’s stomach does a sudden flip but he ignores it. “Why don’t you meet at a restaurant?”

Gaila’s laughter is a sound Jim misses on occasion. The red-haired woman cocks a hip. “Jimmy baby, we’re here because you’re here. The plan was to convene at your place but since you weren’t around…” She shrugs one shoulder. “It’s a good thing Nyota has an innate Kirk Radar. And Pavel spotted that ugly truck.”

Jim feels indignant on Jose’s behalf. “It’s serviceable.”

“Exactly what I’ve said about a good share of men,” Gaila stage-whispers to Uhura.

Jim scratches the back of his head. “I think I’m offended.”

Bones mumbles something under his breath.

The two females of the group smirk. One of them says, “Men” like that one word explains everything. Kirk may or may not subconsciously sidle closer to Spock.

Gaila digs in her purse, pulls out a nail file, and begins to buff her long nails. Uhura asks if she has an extra file. Once the women are occupied elsewhere, Jim sags a little (proverbially, of course, so as not to display weakness) and faces Bones and Spock.

He does a double take at the uncertainty on McCoy’s face. “What is it, Bones?”

Leonard lowers his voice. “I don’t think I ought to come along to this dinner, Jim.”

Jim frowns. “You’re with me and Mom likes you. Of course you’re coming along.”

“No,” argues McCoy gently. “I wouldn’t say I’m your mama’s favorite person right now.”

There are plenty of ways he can answer that; Jim chooses the most important. “It doesn’t matter, Bones. You’re one of my favorite people.” Then he adds, because he believes it to be the truth, “Besides, if Mom isn’t already over it, she’ll forgive you soon enough.”

“For you,” Leonard clarifies.

“For me,” Jim agrees. “And possibly because it’s your official duty to keep me alive and kicking.” He makes sure to grin obnoxiously to punctuate his statement.

“Don’t remind me,” mutters the doctor.

“Jim,” interrupts Spock, who had thus far been a silent participant in their exchange, “your mother has arrived.”

Much like Jim, Winona exits her truck in a state of silent reflection, but she acknowledges Jim with a small smile as she approaches. Her eyes track past them all to the diner.

The building is a disaster: charred beams, melted plastic, and the sight of decades worth of memories burnt to ash. Jim slips up to his mother’s side and loops his arm around her shoulders and they look at the ruins together. He spies the shell that had been the kitchen and thinks of all the hours he had spent there as a kid, entertaining himself or doing homework, then later as a teenager, sneaking a girlfriend into the supply closet for a makeout session and getting caught by one very agitated and mildly amused Gary Mitchell.

The Diner has been as much of a home to Jim as the farm he lived on. In a way, he did more growing up in the atmosphere of the diner, surrounded by family and friends, than anywhere else on Earth.

He can’t imagine not being able to stop by for a quick chat with Sulu or a friendly argument with Uhura. He can’t imagine not looking at one particular booth and recalling the moment a man—a stranger in brown—met Jim Kirk’s eyes with a look of such heartbreak, devastation, and need that Jim’s life changed course in an instant.

Winona leans into her son, saying sadly, “What do we do now, Jimmy?”

He doesn’t take a deep breath as he might otherwise have because his lungs are still shaky (but healing) and instead makes a soft sigh. Jim glances over his shoulder. Bones and Spock are lingering some feet away, under a silly impression that the Kirks need space to mourn a loss. Admittedly, though, that might not be far from the truth.

“Jim?” prompts his mother.

He looks at her. “Is Bob up to rebuilding?” They both know that the question is legitimate. Wesley is on the slow track to recovery. The town council has offered to shoulder a majority of the politics until the mayor is ready to return to office; they don’t have much choice, actually, because Trelane has mysteriously dropped out of the race and disappeared off everyone’s radar—even the press (much to their chagrin). And the people of Riverside want Robert Wesley back, if the city-wide petition to hold his office is any indication of their feelings.

But Bob having the energy to handle everything that he used to is not likely. Jim finally had a chance to take a good look at the man after the end of the Trelane crisis, and he was shocked at what he saw. Wesley looked old.

The expression on Winona’s face indicates that she has something to say but is not certain if she should. Jim gives her a silent nudge.

“I talked to Bob,” she begins, and Jim is intrigued by the nervousness in her voice. “I’ve been saving money, Jim, since the mortgage was paid off… Bob says he can help me out, loan out some of the insurance money—if we want to rebuild.”

Jim’s heart picks up speed.

“The construction would take time,” Winona says. Beneath her hushed voice, Jim hears a thrum of excitement and want. “It wouldn’t be the same, but it’d be mine.”

No decision to make. He turns her to face him and says fiercely, “You have to do it, Mom.”

Winona smiles. “You think so, Jimmy?”

“Yes,” he insists. His eyes skip past hers, to Bones’ then Spock’s. “What’s the point in dreaming if you aren’t going to fight to make the dream real when you have the chance?”

His mother’s laugh of delight and pride brings his attention back to her. “You have your father’s stubborn streak but you obviously inherited my brains,” she says with a hint of teasing. Winona’s eyes continue to twinkle as she tells her son, “You’re the hero among us, Jim. You should pick the name.”

Jim grins a little. “Naw, I have a superhero gang,” he corrects, thinking of all his family and friends. Impishly, “Though you might consider me the lead hero.”

It’s probably Uhura who tosses gravel at the back of his head. When his mother pokes him in the side to demand the name of her new diner, Jim cannot help but grin broadly. “The Enterprise,” he announces.

“You remembered.” Eyes warm, Winona Kirk brushes a wayward lock of hair from his forehead with affection. “The Enterprise it is, then,” she confirms.

Mother and son hug, Jim’s heart feeling lighter than it has in days. Then Winona steps back, winks, and turns away to accept congratulations from Sulu and Pavel and share excited planning chatter with Uhura. Jim, knowing his mother won’t allow him this moment of pretend-privacy for long, he strides over to Bones and Spock.

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need or want to. He lets his embrace of Bones and subsequent dizzying kiss say everything. Then—because in for a penny, in for a pound; because Jim is growing fond of Bones’ rule for equal affection between the three of the men; and mostly because every part of Jim is urging him take hold of Spock, too—he reels Spock in and gives him the same treatment. Beside them, Leonard groans in a timber deeper than his natural voice.

Jim pulls away, leaving his hands on Spock’s upper arms, and turns to McCoy to watch the man’s eyes darken from green to brown. “Hot enough for you, Bones?” he asks slyly.

“Do it again ‘n I’ll letcha know,” Leonard says in a lowered, slightly ragged voice.

Jim slides his hands across the breadth of Spock’s shoulders, feeling Spock respond by placing arms around Jim’s waist, and Kirk thinks that suggestion is a wonderful idea. After all, while he may be a content mechanic, a generally charitable and good-natured man, and a retired bad boy, Jim has never, ever been the kind of person to turn down a challenge.

Behind the three men, someone lets out a wolf whistle. Jim’s mother quips loudly, “At least this time he brought them home to meet his mother.” She adds smugly, “Oh yes, he’s definitely my boy.”

Bones laughs, Jim hides his blushing face in Spock’s neck, and Spock remarks in a somewhat choked voice, “Might I suggest we desist in this… activity while in view of your mother?”

Jim couldn’t agree more.

After they decide on a place for dinner and everyone is walking back to their respective vehicles, Gaila skips up to Leonard’s side and slips her arm through his arm. Bones does not protest, simply looks at her curiously.

Jim sees the familiar wicked curve of her mouth and groans out loud. “Gaila, what did you do?”

The redhead pats her curly hair. “Are you sure you want to know?”

Jim closes his eyes.

Gaila takes that as a yes to continue. “I was in an terrible mood because Jim,” she tells Leonard intently—and now Spock, who has stopped to listen, “didn’t think to include me in your little adventure.”

“Gaila, that was the Q—”

She ignores him. “Well, I was upset and thinking of ways to make it past security at the hospital—I can be very persuasive, you know—”

“Seductive,” Jim corrects.

“—so I could whap Jim on his egotistical head with his bed pan,” she adds with an annoyed look, “when this grade A bitch starts throwing a tantrum in my store. You know her, Jim,” Gaila says too sweetly. “Marlena.”

Leonard sucks in a breath. Jim is on the verge of telling Gaila to shut up (she can’t know of Marlena’s threats) when he spies the flash of sympathy in her eyes as she catches Bones’ expression. He decides to hold his tongue.

Gaila modulates her story-telling candor to a more serious tone. “Marlena goes on about how some rich boyfriend dumped her and left town and she can’t believe she ever slept with him. Same old story I hear a lot, mostly, except when she mentioned Jim’s name. I believe her exact words were ‘It’s all that asshole Kirk’s fault.'”

Jim grimaces.

Gaila’s sharp eyes miss nothing. “So I closed up shop, got her drunk at a local bar, and coaxed out the whole sordid story. You have a daughter, Dr. McCoy,” she says. The redhead smiles once, disarmingly, before pushing into McCoy’s personal space. “I think that’s great, but if you ever, ever give some lowlife bitch like Marlena an opportunity to fuck you over again, I will gut you myself.”

Leonard is doing a good impression of a shore-stranded fish. Jim eases the fiery woman back so the man can breathe. “Okay, Gaila, I think Bones has learned his lesson.”

She flips a curl over her shoulder. “I hope so.” Her eyes cut from Jim to Spock to Leonard. “By the way, Marlena Moreau won’t bother you again.”

Spock asks curiously, “How did you accomplish that, Miss—Gaila?”

Gaila’s wicked smile blooms. “Why, with the direct approach, Mr. Spock. I slugged her.”

The tickle in Jim’s throat might be hysterical laughter. He swallows it down and firmly orders it to stay put.

Gaila kisses Leonard’s cheek, then Jim’s. “I like them,” she whispers in Jim’s ear. “You’ll let me know if I can help, right?”

Jim hugs her hard. “Yes,” he promises. “I will.”

Gaila waggles her fingers at the men in goodbye and hurries over to Sulu’s car. Jim doesn’t mind it when Bones pulls Jim back against his chest. Leonard wants to know, “Where the hell do you find these people, kid?”

“No idea,” he confesses. “Where did I find you and Spock?”

Bones drops a kiss on the outer shell of his ear. “Right here, Jim,” Leonard McCoy answers. “Right here.”

All the more reason to bring the diner—the Enterprise—back.

Epilogue

Some months later…

Jim is digging for his house keys in his duffel bag when a familiar, high-pitched meow! gives him pause on the sidewalk outside his apartment building. He grins as he looks up and calls, “Bo Peep! Go get Bones to unlock the door!”

The furry face of the cat on the window sill stares down at him with slit eyes and makes an indignant meow meow and a tail-swish of irritation, as if Jim daring to request that she leave her perch is quite uncalled-for. As much as Bo Peep adores Spock, Jim is certain that cat has developed Bones’ mood swings. Unless Kirk is doing something which pleases Bo Peep, like scratching her under her pointy chin, he gets swatted at for being an annoyance.

How unfair.

Bo Peep in residence means that Spock is in residence also. Of course, Jim had already known that, as he had left his Harley next to Spock’s restored Corvette in the parking lot. Every time Jim looks at the Corvette he thinks of Sarek, who had casually mentioned during the last dinner before Spock’s parents flew back to Europe that the Corvette in Jose’s garage looked similar to a Sting Ray he owned the summer Spock was ten. (Amanda inserted, “Spock loved that car. He scratched his name under one of the seats. Oh, Sarek love, that was a wonderful summer.”) The following day Jose looked in askance at Jim as Jim contorted into an upside-down position on the floorboard of the car and kind of freaked out when he found faint marks that could easily spell SPOCK on the underside of the passenger seat.

By the time Jim swaggers up to the front door of his apartment, the door is wide open and Spock is waiting to greet him. Jim tosses his work bag to the side of the door and says, “Hey, Spock.”

“Jim,” returns the tall, dark-haired man. “Leonard will be with us momentarily. He is changing into more comfortable attire.”

Jim makes a distracted noise, already following his nose into the kitchen. “It’s your night to cook?”

Spock inclines his head.

Thank God. Bones gets a night to cook, Spock gets a night to cook, but Jim—well, Jim gets a night to pay for take-out or their meal at a restaurant (he’ll be happy when The Enterprise Diner’s construction is officially completed in another two weeks; he hears his mother is still trying to talk Sulu into leaving meatloaf off the menu, which is a clash of titans Jim does not want to get involved in). Kirk is barred from the kitchen, an entirely unjust declaration as it was not his intention to start a grease fire last time. He had been trying to make pancakes as a sweet early morning surprise for his special someones… and almost taken out half of Spock’s kitchen.

Whoops. Perhaps it is a good thing the owners have agreed to sell the enormous house to Spock after all.

Spock catches Jim’s finger before he can dip it into a delicious-looking sauce. Jim whines that he is hungry. Spock kisses the tip of his finger and then steers Jim by the shoulders out of the kitchen with the promise of a quick snack.

Having succeeded in his ingenious plan to wheedle a plate of food out of Spock, Jim settles on the couch and turns on the television. Bo Peep leaps over the armrest and walks the length of the couch—in particular, over Jim with dainty, insulting steps—and then over the other armrest and to the floor, whereupon she seeks out her favorite person (Spock) and twines about his legs, purring. Jim pretends to be insulted because that satisfies Bo Peep immensely. The volume of her purring increases.

Spock joins him on the couch after setting a plate of sliced French bread and a small fondue pot of cheese on the coffee table. Jim spears one of the pieces of bread, dips it in the melted cheese, and groans in satisfaction. He knows he has approximately two minutes to eat his share before Bo Peep jumps onto the table to investigate why the humans are eating and she is not.

After flipping channels while pressed up against Spock’s side and resolutely licking his fingers clean (and ignoring the proffered napkin by his companion), Jim remarks, “Didn’t you say Bones was in his room?”

Spock leans over and removes the piece of bread from the table that Bo Peep is pawing at with an inquisitive gesture of what is this substance? “Leonard did say he would join us, though he seemed tired upon returning from his trip to Derby.”

“Mm,” mumbles Kirk, standing up and stretching. “I could use a nap, too.” He has an unhealthy habit (Bones says) of climbing into bed with the nearest napping person. That, Jim decides, would rouse Bones, if they all puppy-piled into his bed. A sleepy, grumpy Bones is more adorable than an awake, grumpy Bones.

Jim gives the cracked door of Bones’ room a token tap before entering. To his surprise, Leonard is not asleep, nor out of his scrubs from his once-weekly trip to the hospital in Derby. McCoy sits sagging at the foot of the bed. Jim notices that he is turning a letter over in his hands, and Jim immediately swallows down apprehension.

He calls softly, “Bones?”

Leonard lifts his head, looking first at Jim then at Spock, who is undoubtedly at Jim’s back. The expression on his face does not exactly qualify as upset—more like shocked.

Jim kneels at Leonard’s feet and puts a hand on his thigh. “Bad news?” he asks tentatively.

Leonard straightens, seeming to come back to himself now that Jim is touching him and Spock has reached over to take the letter from Bones’ hands. “Jim,” begins McCoy, then changes his mind. He shakes his head. “It’s not bad news.” He ends the sentence with a shaky sigh that has Jim sliding his hands up to Leonard’s shoulders.

“Indeed it is not,” says Spock as he looks up from the letter.

Jim glances between the two men. “You can tell me?”

McCoy gives him an odd look. “It’s from my mother,” he explains. “She says—oh Jesus—” Leonard tries to lean back but Jim tightens his grip on the man’s shoulders. “Jim,” Bones says somewhat thickly, “Joanna—she’s bringing Joanna to visit.” The last bit comes out in a rush.

Jim’s brain needs a second to process that. The shell-shock on Leonard’s face, after giving voice to the news, transforms into a raw edge of happiness. Bones looks younger in that moment, the seemingly permanent shadows at the corners of his eyes flying away. Kirk swallows hard at the sight and tugs Leonard into a hug, both wanting to preserve the glow in his lover’s face and fearing how vulnerable Bones’ heart is (Jim knows Bones desperately wants to see his daughter) and needing to protect it.

He pulls away at last, kisses the side of Leonard’s mouth, and exclaims, “This is great, Bones!”

McCoy laughs. “I don’t know—I have no idea how she talked Jocelyn into it and I don’t damned care, Jim. I can’t care. It’s been so long…” Leonard switches from happy to mildly alarmed. “Oh shit, where are we going to put them?” McCoy half-rises and looks around at his room.

Jim stretches his back as he climbs to his feet. “We’ve got plenty of places,” he teases, amused. “The couch, the bathtub, and, oh, the kitchen cabinet!”

McCoy rounds on him and rolls his eyes, mouth twitching with humor. “Jim—shut up.”

Kirk beams and rocks back on his heels.

Leonard says thoughtfully, “I guess we can put ‘em up at Spock’s or the farm.”

“Absolutely!”

Spock nods in agreement. “I imagine that Eleanor will feel more comfortable at the Kirk farm. On the other hand, I have several rooms to accommodate both your mother and your daughter, as well as yourself, Leonard, should you wish to stay in the same residence as your family.”

Jim scratches his head. “Bones could just bunk with you, Spock.” He smirks. “I mean, it’s not like we stay in separate rooms every time we sleep over at your house.” He almost, almost, makes a crack about the type of sleeping they do.

It isn’t until Leonard and Spock simply stare at him that Jim realizes he is missing a vital part of the big picture. “What?” he wants to know.

Spock clears his throat and says to Leonard, “He has not met your mother.”

Bones puts a hand over his eyes and says, “Jesus Almighty.”

Now Jim feels a prickling of alarm. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish. Finally thinking of something to do, Jim laughs a little (which comes out squeaky, not at all like he intended). “Hey, it’s just your mom, Bones. No big deal.”

McCoy looks at him pityingly. “You sad, pretty little boy,” drawls the Southerner. Then to Spock, “We’ll haveta use your house. She’ll want to be able to keep an eye on us at all times. Make sure there’s no… messin’ about.”

Spock nods in understanding. It is Jim who flounders. “Why?”

Leonard turns away, sniffing the air and deflecting the conversation with “Is dinner ready?”

Spock calmly follows Leonard into the living room, leaving Jim to trail behind them, bleating, “Guys? You’re freaking me out. C’mon—guys? How bad can Mrs. McCoy, erm, Eleanor be?”

Bones picks up the meowing Bo Peep and buries his face into her fur, his shoulders shaking with either laughter, tears, or both. Spock proceeds to lay out plates and silverware for the meal they are sharing. Jim stands in his own apartment like a fool, feeling sweat gather at the back of his neck.

Of course they are playing with him. Bones’ mother cannot be nearly as scary as Spock’s, and Jim—well, he mostly survived that (due to the fact that he was pitiful-looking after that escapade with Trelane and Amanda seemed to cut him some slack out of sympathy). Jim tucks his hands under his armpits and takes two deep breaths.

Nope. It’ll be okay. He’s James T. Kirk after all. He is a man of action, said-action decidedly being to woo Bones’ little girl and to hope the elder female McCoy follows.

Bones calls, “You want a beer?”

Jim sighs and lets his tension go. “Sure,” he calls back, plopping onto the couch. There will be time for freaking out later. Right now, he has two sexy boyfriends about to serve him dinner and how lucky does that make Jim?

Then Bones settles next to Jim on the couch, takes a swig of an opened beer, and digs a fork into a plate of food.

Jim frowns. “Where’s mine?”

“I’m a doctor, not a housekeeper. I put your beer by your empty plate. You’ve got two good legs. Make use of ‘em.”

Jim looks at Spock who is standing by the kitchen counter and feeding bits of chicken to Bo Peep. The man meets his stare, lifts his eyebrow in response to Jim’s pout, and continues to feed the purring cat.

Okay. Sexy boyfriends—check. Servants? Not so much.

Still, Jim is fully aware of what a lucky man he is.

-Fini

Sequel here.

Related Posts:

• Along Comes a Stranger (27/28) – from July 9, 2011
• Along Comes a Stranger (26/28) – from July 5, 2011
• Chapter of Doom – from July 4, 2011
• Along Comes a Stranger (25/28) – from June 30, 2011
• Along Comes a Stranger (24/28) – from June 29, 2011

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